


It Isn't Over Yet

by The_Tevinter_Biscuit



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Near Death Experiences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 04:25:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15941750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Tevinter_Biscuit/pseuds/The_Tevinter_Biscuit
Summary: When Meredith grabs hold of Fenris, Hawke fears that he is going to lose the one he loves the most.





	It Isn't Over Yet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alis_volat_propriis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alis_volat_propriis/gifts).



Everyone was exhausted. Ever since the moment the chantry had been reduced to nothing but rubble, the fighting hadn’t stopped. Battling their way through mages and templars alike had left the party weary. A lot had happened in such a short amount of time. This certainly hadn’t been what Hawke was expecting when he woke up that morning.

As soon as Meredith pulled out that red-lyrium infused sword, they knew that their fight wasn’t quite over yet. This would be their toughest battle yet, but there was no going back now.

It was tough, but they were making progress. Meredith stood no chance against all their power combined, everyone giving everything they had in a final hurrah. With this, it would all be over. Hawke clung to that hope. He concentrated on fending off the walking statues, their heavy footsteps making the ground rumble and shake. If he kept them off the main group, they could focus their attacks on Meredith.

Then, it happened.

“How does it feel, Champion,” Meredith’s voice cut through the battle. Hawke’s head whipped around as he took down another statue, and his heart dropped into his stomach. Bloodied as she were, her strength knew no bounds with the help of the red lyrium. “To know I hold the life of the one you love in my hands?”

Fenris scowled and squirmed in her tight hold, her fingers digging in to his scalp as she lifted him off his feet. His legs kicked desperately, prepared to swing his sword any minute now, but everything happened so quick.

Except for Hawke. Time slowed, the world around him dulled as his throat closed up. This couldn’t be happening. The pointed end of Meredith’s sword was emerging from the other side of Fenris’s abdomen. Completely impaled. His body convulsed on the blade, sputtering blood and spit from his lips. Hawke’s body froze as he drank in the sight. She just held him there, like it was nothing. Satisfied in watching his limp body slide down the sword.

She tossed him to the floor effortlessly. He collapsed on the ground with a thump, face down, copious amounts of blood seeping out from under him. And seconds later, he remained still.

“FENRIS!” Hawke’s blood-curdling shriek shook the entire battlefield. His blood quickly boiled, anger and venom replacing the sadness in his veins.

The battle could not end here. Meredith would _pay_ for what she’d done.

Magic crackled at Hawke’s fingertips. Sparked for every drop of rage in him. With a cry, he let every spell, every trick in the book, that he knew emerge into the atmosphere. The sooner Meredith was down, the sooner he could help Fenris. That was… if he was still there.

His heartbeat thrummed in his throat, threatening to leap out. All of his friends were there too, surrounding him, helping him finish things off. The blood-curdling yell emerging from Meredith was the most satisfying thing he’d heard in a while. He watched her stumble back, still screaming until her throat was hoarse, as her skin cracked and crumbled.

Hawke was momentarily taken aback by the sight. What was happening to her? He’d never seen anything like it. She burned away, consumed by the red lyrium, until she was nothing but a husk of the woman she once was.

Fenris quickly re-entered his mind and he ran to his side, dropping to his knees so he could cradle him in his arms. He had not moved since he was thrown to the floor. His body was limp and heavy in his arms, head lolling to one side with his eyes still wide open. Blood was smeared across his nose and lips, and still pooling out from the gaping wound in his stomach.

This couldn’t be happening. No, no, no. Fenris!

A sob bubbled out from Hawke’s lips, his shaky hands quickly moving to the wound on his stomach. It was hard to concentrate when they were trembling this much. His lyrium supply was dangerously low, but he couldn’t let Fenris die in his arms like this. He had to pull out as much of his energy as he could. He had to _try_.

Eventually, a flicker of magic emerged, and his hands were consumed by a blue glow. It couldn’t end like this, he would heal Fenris to the best of his ability, even if it took every last bit of his energy.

The waiting felt like an eternity. Sebastian had come to join him, watching anxiously for any sign of life in Fenris. Isabela, Varric, Aveline and Merrill were there too, standing a fair distance as not to invade on the moment Hawke was having. The melancholic air had everyone’s heart in their stomachs. Was it over? Should they be giving up?

Hawke pressed on. He didn’t want to believe it. They had only just rekindled their romance and they were still so young, so much of their lives ahead of them. The possibility of this had been discussed, briefly, before the battle, but Hawke had not believed it. Not for a second. He and Fenris were supposed to make it through this, they were supposed to have their happily ever after.

Not this. Anything but this. No one had the right to take away that life from Fenris, no one. He had fought his whole life, scratching his way to survival, and he deserved a happy ending.

Hawke’s companions were exchanging concerned glances behind him. No one was willing to say anything, not until they knew for sure. Someone would have to stop Hawke eventually, there would be no more he could do for Fenris. Their doubt was growing and their patience wearing thin. They couldn’t bear to see Hawke like this. He had been a figure of confidence and strength, a role model for the people of Kirkwall. No one had seen him this broken since the death of his mother. It was painful to watch.

Then it happened. Fenris’s eyes closed, but then opened again. He coughed and sputtered, launching himself forwards in Hawke’s arms as he came to his senses. Even Hawke could hardly believe what he was seeing. It had been just as his magic was running out. Fate was a twisted thing, but he could not be more grateful.

“Hawke…?” Fenris’s weary voice croaked out. He paid no mind to those gathered around him, instead focusing on the fact that he was sat on Hawke’s lap, cradled in his arms. There was a chorus of sighs of relief from everyone crowded around him.

Tears rained down Hawke’s cheeks, dripping from his chin faster than he could stop them. Fenris was alive, he’d saved him. He was going to live! He cared little for his blood-soaked hands and pulled Fenris into a tight hug.

“Fenris! Oh Maker, Fenris, I thought… I thought…” he stammered. At the sound of Fenris hissing and wincing, he instantly loosened his grip. Right. Just been stabbed through the stomach. Bound to still hurt a little, even with all the magic.

“Won’t get rid of me that easily,” Fenris joked, laughing a little which faded into a cough.

Hawke stared, and then faded into laughter himself. He still had a sense of humour, it seemed. He took Fenris’s cheeks in his and their eyes met, Fenris smiled back at him. Isabela hollered as their lips met. It was desperate and wonderful, and Hawke never wanted to let go of him ever again. He loved this man so much, he would never love someone else, even if something had happened. However, he was going to take extra precautions from now on to make sure that never happened. They’d get away from this life of violence and chaos.

As they parted, Fenris took the initiative to try and push himself up onto his feet. Hawke quickly aided him, lending him a shoulder to lean on as he stumbled up. Fenris sighed, leaning his cheek against Hawke’s arm, before looking towards what was left of Meredith. He’d missed the ending of the battle, but at least it was over. He could rest now.

“Thank you,” he mumbled against the fabric of Hawke’s clothes. “For saving me.”

“Of course,” Hawke replied. “I love you. I wasn’t going to let you die.”

There was a moment of hesitation as they both came to realise that it was the first time Hawke had truly told him he loved him, in that way. Hawke’s cheeks flushed with red and he forgot all about the grief of the past few minutes. Maker, he wished he’d said that under slightly more romantic pretences, and when all of his friends weren’t there to listen.

“I am yours,” Fenris said, chuckling a little again. All was right in the world when Fenris laughed. Suddenly, Hawke didn’t mind so much.

“Let’s get out of here,” Hawke said. Before any more people could crowd in on them, from friends to those investigating the mysterious circumstances of Meredith’s death, Hawke turned on his heels. He guided Fenris out of the gallows, their friends quickly catching up, never to look back.

They would be free of Kirkwall’s chains forever.

 

“You know, we match now.”

Fenris looked up from his book. It had been several years since the events of Kirkwall. He and Hawke had found a nice little house to live in out of the way of civilisation. They could hide away here, something they were both thankful for. Hawke emerged with a towel around his waist, having just come from a bath. He took a seat next to Fenris on the bed.

“What are you talking about now?” Fenris asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Hawke grinned at him, running a hand over Fenris’s exposed stomach. It was the evening, and both were planning on calling it a night soon, so Fenris lay on the bed in only a pair of leggings that he slept in.

“The scars. I was really worried when Meredith got you like that,” Hawke elaborated, running a finger over the scar running across Fenris’s abdomen. Fenris put his book down on the nightstand and put his hand on Hawke’s stomach, feeling around for a similar scar across the skin.

“I was worried about you too you know. The Arishok got you pretty good. You can barely see it under all that hair though,” he said. “But it’s in the past now.”

Hawke smiled and leaned in to press a kiss to his lips. “It is. Feels like a long time ago now. Also, you love all the hair.”

It didn’t take Fenris long to melt into the kiss. He was so thankful to have Hawke, he couldn’t imagine a life without him. They were going to grow old together, covered in all their scars of the past, and not regret a thing. This was what he wanted.

“You’re right, I do,” Fenris hummed. A coy smirk pulled on his lips. “Let me show you just how much.”

Fenris swung his leg over Hawke’s thighs and shuffled into his lap. Hawke put his hands on his waist and let him lead with a deep kiss. With a life like this, he couldn’t say he had a lot to complain about. A handsome man in his bed, kissing him within an inch of his life. Things didn’t get much better than this.

Neither of them knew what the future held, but with any luck, things would stay this way. Simple, peaceful, and free of violence. That was the way they liked it. Neither of them missed the chaos of Kirkwall, and with their friends only a letter away, it was a good way to live.

They were in love, and thankful for their lives.


End file.
